


here, tonight

by Shadaras



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Feelings Realization, Pre-Femslash, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:16:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: Rose’s body was warm against her no matter what; there just wasn’t enough space to avoid that. And it was soft, and that felt—it was a good feeling. And if Rey maybe wanted to try something more, then. Well. She had permission. And nobody was going to see what she did or didn’t do. And Rose didn’t care either way. So. She could try snuggling. If she wanted. She guessed.





	here, tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colls/gifts).

The worst thing about the _Falcon_ was that it didn’t have enough room.

Or, well, it had enough room for what it was: An old family ship built to smuggle things, and occasionally people, across the galaxy, retrofitted to be a family’s personal transport vessel. But, from what Rey had gathered, the remnants of the Resistance more than doubled the previous greatest number of people on the old junker. The previous number, given by mutual argument between Leia and Chewie, was probably somewhere around eight, and not for nearly as long.

Rey had gotten this from them while asking how the cockpit was for sleeping, because Leia and Chewie had holed up there, doing who-knows-what half the time, but also claiming one of the few almost-private spaces for sleeping. “It still smells like Han,” Chewie told her, before the argument about how many people had been on the _Falcon_ started. “We both like that.”

The rest of the Resistance members slowly rotated through all the common rooms—stepping over sleeping comrades on the floor and sitting on the floor or on tables because the couches had been claimed as bunks—and the two rooms set aside for sleeping quarters: The big(ger) one, with a bed large enough for two people comfortably and four if you curled up close; and the small one with a bunkbed, each level of which fit one comfortably and two if you squished.

Right now, Rey was squished on the top bunk, pressed against the outside edge by Rose, who took up way more space than Rey expected. Her personality filled whatever room she was in, and her body took up all the space on the bed, too. Rey slowly shuffled herself over until she was facing Rose, and thought about snuggling, which was something that the rest of the Resistance seemed a lot more comfortable with than she was.

It wasn’t that the Resistance didn’t care about personal space. They cared about it a lot. Nobody had tried to hug her or snuggle her or whatever. They just asked, and when she shook her head they moved on with their lives. But Rose kept asking, the same way Finn did, the same way Poe was starting to, and Rey didn’t know what to do with that. (She let Finn touch her, now, and was almost starting to be okay with it from Poe, and Rose baffled her and she didn’t know what she wanted but there were definitely a lot of big feelings, which she didn’t have the time to figure out even if she wanted to, and those feelings burbled in her chest whenever she thought about Rose’s touch.)

But Rose hadn’t asked. Rose had offered. As they’d settled into the bunkbed, Rose had cheerfully said, “I know there’s not much space, but I like having someone else close, if you do decide to snuggle.”

At the time, Rey had shrugged and told Rose that she wasn’t interested. Rose had turned over, facing the wall, and said, “Offer’s open, if you change your mind.”

Rey had been thinking about it ever since. Rose’s body was warm against her no matter what; there just wasn’t enough space to avoid that. And it was soft, and that felt—it was a good feeling. And if she maybe wanted to try something more, then. Well. She had permission. And nobody was going to see what she did or didn’t do. And Rose didn’t care either way. So. She could try snuggling. If she wanted. She guessed.

It only took her half an hour of staring at the wall, thinking about how her heart was beating and about how Rose shifted in her sleep as she dreamt, before Rey finally looked down at Rose. She was sprawled out on her back, and the _Falcon_’s dim night-lights cast beautiful rosy shadows on her face. Rey looked at her for a good minute, thinking about how she was going to be close to Rose, going to touch her and feel that softness, and something in her heart kept twinging. Fear, but something else, too, and Rey didn’t know what to do with that other thing so she pushed it aside and told the fear to go away.

Finally, tentatively, Rey reached an arm over Rose’s body, laying it down ever so gently. The only reaction Rose gave was to make a small pleased noise and turn, opening up more space for Rey while also clamping her arm over Rey’s own.

Rey froze, even as her body tilted into the newly free space just because it was there. Her heart was pounding fast enough that she felt sure she’d wake Rose with the force of it. But nothing else happened. Even as Rey inched closer and closer, all that happened was Rose shuffled her body so that Rey was more adequately spooning Rose. Because that’s what this was.

Poe had explained spooning, the first hectic night, when he and Finn and Rey had crashed together on the _Falcon_’s floor. Spooning was a specific form of snuggling. It was usually good for sleeping. Rey hadn’t really gotten it, then; even with Finn’s body a solid weight behind her and his arm carefully not holding her in place, she’d barely slept that night, and had been cat-napping around the _Falcon_ ever since, unwilling to try again and equally unwilling to sleep in the open where people were awake and moving.

So she’d fallen asleep over an empty cup of ration-stew that honestly wasn’t as bad as the Resistance was making it out to be (they were complaining that it was tasteless glop with no redeeming features, but it had nutrients, and it was warm, and it filled her stomach, all of which were important as far as she was concerned). Rose had poked her, then shook her, then started bodily hauling her off to the bunks as Rey protested. The rest of the Resistance, as best Rey had been able to make out through bleary eyes, thought this was the height of entertainment.

Rose had shoved her up onto the top bunk, asked her which side she wanted, and then informed her that “I’m going to sleep here, and so are you. I might take up more space than you’d like, and I’m sorry about that, but if we end up touching or snuggling that doesn’t bother me at all. You don’t gotta snuggle, but you do gotta sleep.” And then Rey had mumbled something about not liking snuggling, and, well. Here they were, now.

And with Rose it was nice, Rey guessed. Definitely better than having another person wrapped around her, even one she trusted as much as Finn. Feeling another person’s heartbeat on her chest was. Nice. Having a reminder of another living person breathing underneath her arm was. Good. And Rose smelled good, somehow, which was a true miracle when there was only one shower on the _Falcon_ and no privacy anywhere else. Rey let her face slowly tilt down into Rose’s hair, and closed her eyes, focusing on the minute shifts of Rose’s body. They hadn’t changed the entire time; Rose had to still be fast asleep.

As she paid closer and closer attention, Rey felt herself drifting off too. Her heart slowed, and her breathing steadied, and the little bit of her brain that always wanted to be looking out for danger settled into quiet acceptance that _she was safe_. Rey listened to Rose’s breathing, and let herself slide into sleep, because this was more than okay; it was good, and she could rest, and even sleep, like this.

And so she did.

In the morning, Rey was still curled around Rose, and woke with Rose to the soft vibrating hum of Rose’s wrist-watch alarm. Rey kept herself very still as Rose stirred and turned off the alarm, letting Rose choose whether or not to believe Rey was still asleep. Rose squeezed Rey’s hand, and said, “Good morning,” very gently.

Rey drew her face away from Rose’s neck, where it had somehow ended up, and ignored the complicated stew of emotions that weren’t fear exactly and therefore didn’t need to be listened to right now. “Good morning,” she said, just as softly. Slowly, she drew her hand away from Rose’s, and Rose made no move to stop her. Neither did Rose do or say anything as Rey sat up. She just followed suit as soon as there was enough space, and smiled at Rey, sweet and honest and open and framed by sleep-mussed hair.

Rey felt herself flush, and turned to the bunk’s ladder to climb down. “Guess we gotta get back to work, or something.”

“Or something, indeed,” Rose said, and Rey could hear the laughter in her voice. “Same thing tonight?”

“Yeah,” Rey said, looking up from the floor. As she said it, she realised how much she meant it, and the feeling in her gut tightened and burst, flooding her. “I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Rey left, then, before she could get any more caught by Rose’s gaze.

Throughout the day, on and off, she kept thinking about the night, and her promise, and it kept almost making her lose track of her Force exercises or the wires she was helping repair or whatever else she was supposed to be doing to keep busy. And having Rose there beside her half the time wasn’t helping anything, because each glance was warm and soft and felt filled with something entirely new.

But none of the other Resistance members said anything, if they noticed, and when their next sleep-shift came Rey followed Rose willingly to the bunks, and slept deeper than she could remember doing in a long time.


End file.
